


The Mentalist and The Mistletoe

by Trista_zevkia



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics), World's Finest (Comics)
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Identity Porn, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind Control, World's Finest Gift Exchange, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 09:45:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4300065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the 2010 World's Finest Gift Exchange: A mind-controlled Superman attacks a very public Bruce Wayne instead of Batman. No last-minute saves by other heroes. What does Bruce do without his tools? How does he protect his identity? What is the public--and private—fallout?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mentalist and The Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> Dub con because Bruce uses sex to 'relax' a mind controlled Clark. But Clark is into it, repeatedly. Just would rather warn than not.

The early morning board meeting was approaching its end, much to the relief of all present. Four hours in one room was annoying, each break stopped so someone could talk. The idea of bathrooms, food, drinks, and chance to stretch the legs made everybody shift eagerly in their seats when Mr. Fox asked if there was any other business. His words were business like, but something about his voice suggested any further business would be painfully unappreciated. No one seemed to willing to risk it, just as the doors to the conference room opened.

Suppressed whimpers and sobs were not heard over the noise of a trademarked Brucie Wayne entrance. The bimbos he dated would not have fit into a working environment, so Brucie was escorted by four sycophantic secretaries and two reporters trying to get his attention. Once they were in the doorway, all eyes were on his party so no one saw the amused look on Mr. Fox’s face. An elegant hand stopped the noise from his entourage, and Brucie grinned at his board of directors. 

“Sorry I’m late, hope I didn’t miss much.” 

“Don’t worry, Mr. Wayne, I’ll fill you in on anything you missed.” Mr. Fox’s words cut across the room and left relief in their wake. The board could only imagine how long it would take to explain four hours worth of business to Brucie! Mr. Fox earned his salary, that was a fact. 

“Thanks, Lucius. Oh! One thing I wanted to bring up, before I forgot.” Mr. Wayne pulled out his phone and pulled something up on the screen. “Some brain child in computers or accounting sent me an email. Says $1,500,734.42 went missing last night. That’s a lot of numbers! Anyway, they’re working to find out where it went and make sure it doesn’t happen again. Hope none of you have just added 42 cents to your bank accounts, ‘cause they’ll be looking at you!” 

Intakes of breath were audible, but Brucie was the first to find words. “Mr. Sanderson, you’re turning funny colors. Are you ok?” 

Heads turned to Mr. Sanderson, who was indeed a funny shade of puce, before the sound of a window being broken pulled their attention that way. Superman, magnificently framed with the noon sunshine behind him, shook the glass off as he stalked toward Brucie. Once again, Brucie was the first to find words, but only because his brain couldn’t comprehend how very strange it was to see Superman look angry. 

“Superman! Always a thrill to see you. Did you need something from Wayne Enterprises?” 

“Most dangerous, locked away, for good.” Brucie didn’t know enough to back away from the full focus of Superman, but Brucie’s entourage did. They slipped out the door they had entered a few minutes before, leaving Brucie alone. The reporters courageously peered around the doorframe, to see this story unfold and dutifully take pictures. 

“Sounds good. Do you need W.E. to do the construction on your jail?” Superman sneered at Brucie’s question, probably insulted that Wayne kept mentioning his company, as if to remind Superman they were in public. 

“Has to be secure, for the dangerous one.” With that, Superman grabbed the millionaire and flew out the same window he had recently destroyed. The reporters were calling in the story before the board quite recovered. Mr. Fox sent a text to someone listed on his phone as simply Alfred, even before he called W.E. security to detain Mr. Sanderson. Business as usual for Mr. Fox, apparently. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

As they flew North, Brucie Wayne showed an impressive vocabulary as he explained in great detail what he was going to do to Clark when he got the chance. It wasn’t pretty, and highly improbable, as there were some places some things just wouldn’t fit, no matter how invulnerable the skin around the opening. 

Brucie’s hands were held in a praying position by one of Superman’s impossibly strong hands, as if Superman was worried about what Brucie could do while they flew. Increasing his output of body heat, Superman was able to keep Brucie mostly warm until the Fortress opened to admit them. At speed, Superman took them through the Fortress until he found his destination. Brucie only had the time to read two words from the plaque labeled _Chiroptera Habitat_ before he was inside the room. Superman set him down in a field of wildflowers, and Brucie took a fighter’s stance as he snarled at Superman. 

“What the hell am I doing here?” 

“Lock away the most dangerous, unstoppable person on the planet. You’re safe here. You can stop.” Brucie looked like he had a loud response to that, but his eyes narrowed as he considered things. 

“Superman. I am dangerous, unstoppable. But other than that, who am I?” 

“Bruce.” Superman’s face split into a happy smile even as his eyes lost focus. 

“Hell Clark! Who’s been messing with your brain now?” The exasperated voice didn’t seem to matter, as Superman kept grinning. Bruce relaxed from his ‘ready to maim’ posture and stretched his muscles while he considered his situation. 

Superman’s grin was gone as he carefully watched each movement, as if he suspected Bruce would shortly be attacking. Casually Bruce slipped out of his coat and tie, tossing them on the ground. The artificial sunlight was warm as he toed off his shoes and socks. When he spoke, his voice was calm and reasonable, oblivious to Superman’s tense posture. “Clark, what made you decide to lock away the most dangerous man on Earth?” 

Superman turned away with a frown. “You’re trying to trick me, so I’m not talking to you.” 

Superman turned back around when a gentle finger stroked down his arm. As he began unbuttoning his long sleeved dress shirt, Bruce gave Superman an appreciative glance. “You’re clever, you can handle me. I just like to know things. Look me in the eye, and let me talk to you. That’s all I want. What harm could it do to talk to me?” 

“You’re dangerous, I should leave now.” Superman turned for the door, and curiosity about the sigh from Bruce was beyond him at this time. Superman was walking at a human speed, so it was easy for Bruce to get in front of him. Frowning at his captive, Superman was unprepared for that captive to pull their heads together for a kiss. Before he could figure out what to do with a kissing captive, Bruce’s hands figured out how to undo Superman’s belt. From there, it was easy to get the briefs and tights pulled down. Had Superman been able to think before the kiss, he would have lost that ability as blood moved to underutilized pieces of anatomy. 

Superman pulled away from Bruce just long enough to pull his clothes the rest of the way off. He moved back to Bruce, only to have a kick to the back of his knee put him on the grass. Bruce followed him down, so Superman didn’t bother to get up. Bruce knelt between his legs and bent forward to pay attention to Superman’s penis. Sitting up on his elbows, Superman watched with amazement as Bruce expertly worked his cock. It was a mesmerizing sight, and his own ending caught Superman by surprise. He flopped back onto the ground and reveled in his orgasm. 

Opening his eyes to the sight of a disheveled Bruce laying beside him, Superman had to look at all of the man. Bruce was tenting his pants, but still very much in those pants. Frowning, Superman stood and dashed out of the habitat. Cursing, Bruce had just made it to the habitat door when Superman returned. He picked Bruce up and carried him back to where they had just been before showing him the small jar he had retrieved. Bruce reached out hesitantly to take the jar for inspection and Superman stripped Bruce’s remaining clothes. 

“Superman, is this lube?” 

“Yes, dangerous one.” Bruce licked his lip while he thought about that comment and Superman leaned forward to get in on the tongue action. Bruce sighed into the kiss, but it was a sigh of acceptance as he began to lube his cock. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Pain arced through his head, forcing Clark to open his eyes and look for a source. Instead he saw a shirtless Bruce frowning down at him. Confusion didn’t help the pain in his head, even as Clark tired to make sense of his surroundings. 

“Bruce, why are we in a field?” 

“Tell me about your morning, Clark. I’m sure you’ll find the answer in that cauliflower you call a brain.” 

“No need to be insulting.” Clark let his eyes close and hoped the light would get rid of his headache. 

“Tell me that after you remember what you did.” Bruce was not happy and Clark was glad he didn’t have to see the anger on his face. 

“Fine. Somebody’s been getting bank account numbers from people, police didn’t have time to look into it. I did, found out they had all gone to see a hypnotherapist. The same guy, so I set up an appointment with him this morning.” Here Clark faltered, because he remembered going to the appointment. He talked to the guy and that’s where his memories stopped. 

“Go on.” 

“That’s all I remember.” 

“You don’t remember him dangling a watch in front of your eyes?” The tone in which Bruce said this was sweet and innocent, telling Clark he was in a great deal of trouble. 

“Nobody would fall for that! I just asked him about how it all worked, as if I was still getting up the courage to try hypnosis.” 

“Clark. Before you do, hell, anything, research it! Good hypnotists don’t have to dangle things and put you to sleep. A calm mind, a steadying voice and you’re abducting people from their offices in front of your fellow reporters!” 

“What? I didn’t!” Clark’s eyes flew open at that, knowing Bruce didn’t joke about things like this. Or anything much, really. 

“If my cell phone worked in this fortress of yours, I’d pull up the story. They have pictures.” Bruce smiled at that last statement, and Clark felt like someone had just punched Kryptonite into his guts. 

“Bruce, I’m so sorry! How badly compromised is your identity? Did I call you Batman or Bruce and how do we fix this?” 

“I’m not sure until I read the news accounts, or find out what this hypnotherapist knows. He might have made you talk, or he might have just given you orders. So dig into your cauliflower and tell me about it.” 

“I’ll try, but it’s hard to think with this pain in my head.” 

“Fine!” Bruce seemed agitated, and snarled out other words. “Gang aft agley.” 

“What?” Before Clark could finish the question, the pain in his head was miraculously, instantly gone. Just as quickly, Clark could think again and he didn’t like the thought he had. Sitting up, Clark stared at Bruce, unsure of why they were both naked. “Bruce, did you give me a brain splitting headache?” 

“I believe my exact suggestion involved the word migraine.” 

“What is wrong with you?” Only Bruce would find it acceptable to hypnotize friends into having migraines, but there had to be a reason for it. 

“I wanted to make a point. Step a, relax subject, step b do whatever you want to them. Now, I told you to remember, and remember you do.” 

Bruce’s words made Clark sigh, but he could also feel the memory return. Concentrating on it, Clark tried to tell it to Bruce. 

“He asked what I needed hypnotized for, as I wasn’t a smoker or obese or any of the things his clients normally were. And I told him, I was there looking for a thief because I was a reporter for the _Daily Planet_. He looked at me for a while before he said he could make things better.” Clark paused, having to dig deeper to retrieve the memory of the commands he had been given. There was a moment of mental resistance, and then Clark could hear that man’s voice and his own dazed responses. 

_“You want to do good, don’t you?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“You want to help the world, make it better for everybody.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“You would use all your power to stop bad people, wouldn’t you?”_

_“Can’t kill.”_

_“Don’t kill, stop them. Lock them away in an escape proof jail.”_

_“Lock them away.”_

_“Yes, but there are many who need to be locked away. Many who can’t be stopped any other way. Perhaps you should concentrate on one in particular. The most dangerous. Yes, find the most dangerous man on the planet and lock him away for the good of all!”_

_“Most dangerous, locked away, for good.”_

_“Yes, my friend. Use all your power to lock away the most dangerous man on Earth. I will snap my fingers; you will awake feeling refreshed and leave here wanting nothing more than to lock away that dangerous person.”_

“Lock up the dangerous!” Clark jerked out his reverie, opened his eyes and grinned at Bruce. “He said stop the bad, I told him I couldn’t kill, so he said lock the dangerous away. No names, Bruce, he didn’t tell me to go after you and I didn’t tell him I was going after you! We can do damage control, your identity might be safe.” 

Bruce snorted at Clark’s hopefulness. “Unless he reads the paper or watches the news, hears his words coming out of your mouth. Won’t have to be a genius to go from Clark to Superman to Bruce to crime fighter from Gotham to Batman.” 

Clark winced, knowing full well how right Bruce was. 

“Even hypnotized, you can’t make somebody do something that goes against the core of who they are. You’re not a killer, so he changed to ‘lock away.’ He probably had somebody in mind, but didn’t want to give you their name. If you found out they were dangerous and went after them, it would feel like it was your own volition.” Bruce was telling all this to Clark, even as he used the rest of his brain to map out potential solutions. 

Clark let Bruce plan, trying to work his way through his memories to find out why they were naked. 

“We need to find out who he thought he was sending you after, and if he was involved in identity theft. Then we can see how to get us out of this mess.” 

“Shouldn’t you be flattered or something?” Clark asked, if only to distract Bruce from the recrimination Clark could feel coming. “I did just declare you the most dangerous man on Earth, and I know a few other planets you could terrorize too.” 

“Funny. You saw me as dangerous because I have Kryptonite and you know it.” 

Bruce stood and started gathering up clothes. Clark watched the scarred body move and tried to remember how the clothes had gotten removed in the first place. He remembered leaving the hypnotherapist and taking the stairs to the roof. A moment to change and he had been on his way to Gotham, focusing in on Bruce’s heartbeat. Breaking through the window, he had walked toward Bruce. While everybody else had made themselves scarce, Bruce had stood his ground. Only the tightness of his eyes showed how concerned and annoyed Bruce was by the situation. 

“Enough remembering Clark. I need a shower before we go face this, so take me to one.” 

“Right!” A few commands to the computer, and Clark was walking beside Bruce. The fortress was warm enough, but if Bruce said anything Clark was ready to swear he was radiating heat to keep them warm. He most certainly was not blushing at the way Bruce walked around, oblivious to the fact both of them were still naked. Clark hadn’t remembered how that came about, but Bruce was explaining the techniques of hypnosis. Clark had to pay attention, later he would figure out what Bruce didn’t want him remembering. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

As instructed, Clark flew Bruce to a secondary hideout in downtown Gotham. From there, they could text Alfred and check the news reports. Bruce had been wrong in his belief that the reporters had pictures; they had taken video. He didn’t tell Clark about him being wrong, or just how good Clark looked in the video. Besides the backdrop of light and streaks of rainbow as glass fell from him, Superman’s normal cheerful face was gone. This was the Superman few people got to see, the one expecting a fight to the death. Predatory looked good on the Man of Steel, but Bruce wasn’t the one to tell him that. Instead, Bruce concentrated on the audible words on the footage. 

_“Superman! Always a thrill to see you. Did you need something from Wayne Enterprises?”_

_“Most dangerous, locked away, for good.”_

_“Sounds good. Do you need W.E. to do the construction on your jail?”_

_“Has to be secure, for the dangerous one.”_

Bruce considered for a few minutes, then skilled hands started dancing over keyboards. Beside him, Clark was borrowing some of Batman’s backdoors into the police’s databases of criminals. The hypnotherapist didn’t show up on any, but he was involved in a civil suit against Luther Co. 

“Bruce, Dr. Griffin sent me after Lex. Griffin is the head of the tenets committee suing to stop the drastic increase in their rents, in one of the buildings owned by Luther Co.” 

“So now all we have to do is get Luther to attack you, so you can lock him up in a jail made by W.E.” Clark almost agreed to the plan, before he heard what passed for humor in Bruce’s voice. 

“He loves attacking me, but he never does anything at convenient time.” 

“Tonight, we take care of the hypnotist.” 

“Take care? What do you mean by that? He was just trying to get a reporter to notice his rent increase.” 

“I’m not going to kill him, Clark. That you even think that.” Most people would have shook their head in frustration, Bruce just glared. 

“I didn’t think kill, I know you don’t kill! I just didn’t know what you meant.” 

“I’ll change and meet you on Dr. Griffin’s apartment roof, you’ll be Kent.” 

“Kent?” 

“That’s your name.” 

“But why Kent instead of Clark? You always call me Clark unless you think someone is listening.” 

“At sunset. Dr. Griffin’s roof. Batman and Clark Kent will have a discussion with the good doctor, and use his methods to fix this.” The way the words were ground out of his mouth, Bruce was losing his tiny amount of patience. “Sufficient?” 

“OK, I surrender. Meet you there.” Shaking his head, Clark left Bruce to his attitude. 

The flight back to Metropolis gave him some time to consider things. What happened after he picked up Brucie from the conference room? Obviously he had flown them to the Fortress. He reached for the memory of doing so and found the beginning of that headache he’d woken with. Stopping in midair, Superman turned to frown toward Gotham. Focusing in on Bruce, he considered the man who was fixated on the computer in front of him. Bruce admitted to suggesting the migraine, and Clark had thought it was punishment for abducting him. But Bruce was subtle, and downright sneaky. 

Skipping the memory of the flight, Clark tried for the image of taking Bruce into the Fortress. A stab of pain through his brain made Clark glare at the real Bruce. Frowning, Clark considered for several minutes how he was going to get around that pain to remember. Bruce didn’t want him to remember, but Clark wouldn’t know why until he did. A cry of distress caused Clark to get moving and make a decision. Once they were out of this mess, the things Bruce didn’t want him to remember would be top priority. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

As per Batman’s instructions on the roof, Clark Kent rang the bell outside Dr. Griffin’s apartment. The doctor probably could have afforded a better place, but he was paying for his elderly parent’s apartment on the same floor. His record was that of a good guy, but nicer guys had been pushed into worse things to make money. The door opened as far as the chain would let it and Clark could tell from the audible gulp that the guy knew he was Superman. The door shut, but the chain was pulled back so it could be opened the rest of the way. 

“It’s nice of you to use the front door. I don’t know what my heart would have done if you’d used the window.” Clark gave the nervous doctor a friendly smile as he walked into the apartment. The door was closed and locked behind him, but Clark doubted Dr. Griffin would try anything. “Superman, am I going to jail?” 

Clark turned to the scared man, who folded onto a stool at the kitchen island. “Depends on a few things actually.” 

“On what?” 

“Who you sent me after, why, and what you expected me to do. Motive, really.” 

“Luther is trying to force people out of this building. When you said you were with the _Daily Planet_ , I thought you could investigate Luther. If you found some dirt on him and he went to jail, maybe I could keep my apartments. One for me, and one for my retired parents. I wanted my parents to have someplace decent to live, but I’m still paying off student loans so this was the best I could do. Now he’s trying to take it all away from us, but I didn’t want to hurt him! Just make him stop, that was all.” 

Dr. Griffin was scared and agitated, but Clark monitored his heartbeat anyway. “Best I can tell, you’re not lying. But, for you to know I’m Superman, you must have seen the news.” 

“Yes, heard what you said to Wayne.” Dr. Griffin looked away, clearly trying to avoid the idea in his head about why Wayne would be dangerous. “My words in your voice.” 

“It’s a bad idea to know who we are, our enemies target those who know such things.” Dr. Griffin looked terrified now, his mind conjuring up images of people scarier than prison. “My friend can take that information from you, keep you safe. If you agree to it, of course.” 

“How?” 

Now Clark could offer a smile he meant, as he thought it was a fitting solution. “Hypnosis.” 

“I wish you could, I’d be so relieved, but he’d have to be an expert. I know all the methods for keeping it from working!” 

“Don’t use them.” 

Batman’s growl startled Dr. Griffin, who jumped off his stool and spun around looking for the source of that voice. When his back was to Batman, that creature of shadow jabbed a needle into his neck. Dr. Griffin turned to the source of pain and tried to back away from what he saw. A few seconds after his back collided with the front door, Dr. Griffin’s knees gave out and he sank to the floor. Clark turned to Batman with anger in his voice. 

“Where did the drugs come from? You said you were going to hypnotize him into forgetting, once I had his permission.” 

“Step a, relax subject,” _step b do whatever you want to them._

Batman didn’t say step b, but Clark heard the words anyway, from a forgotten conversation in the Fortress. Clark frowned, but Batman was already getting a very relaxed Dr. Griffin to sit with his back to the wall. 

“This outfit was designed to make people panic, not relax.” 

“When I woke up in the Fortress, you basically told me you had to hypnotize me return me to normal. How did you get me to relax?” 

“Not the same way. Now shut up and pay attention.” 

Clark did pay attention as Batman talked to Dr. Griffin. Bruce was right, as usual, that Dr. Griffin had connected Wayne to Batman. Incongruously soft words from Batman told him that he didn’t really believe that, it was too ridiculous. Talked him backward in time, finally convincing Dr. Griffin that Clark Kent had come in for a routine first meeting. Dr. Griffin had found out Kent was a reporter, and told him all about his troubles with Luther Co. Kent had decided to look into it, so Dr. Griffin would sleep well tonight and not be surprised if the story was in the papers. 

Superman heard all that, even as his brain listed things you could do to relax a person, without the benefit of a utility belt. Nerve pinches and the like wouldn’t work on his skin or nerves, and no form of Kryptonite relaxed Clark. Though, that might be the kind of thing Bruce would invent just to see if he could. Clark was trying to imagine Bruce making Kryptonite bath beads or potpourri when Batman picked up the doctor. Depositing the sleeping man on the couch, Batman left by the window and Clark followed. A hand on an armored shoulder stopped Batman from escaping into his Bat-copter. 

“Bruce, you hypnotized me into having pain whenever I try to remember how you relaxed me.” 

“Does that sound like something I would do?” Batman couldn’t pull off the innocence the question called for, so he settled for mocking. Annoyance at such a question flared in Clark, and he was answering before he could help it. 

“Even Lex wouldn’t think of something that devious!” 

“Does it tell you anything?” 

“Tells me that you don’t want me to know, probably in case you have to use it again.” 

“Exactly. Press conference at 11 tomorrow, same conference room you yanked me out of. Dick should have sent you the speech, so check your email before then.” 

“Bruce, I don’t know if I like you messing around in my head like this.” 

“You shouldn’t like it. You ever do it to me and there will be hell to pay. But that might be why I trained myself to not be susceptible to it. Maybe you should do the same.” * 

Clark ignored the jab at his lack of training, as that was an argument they’d had before. “You had me go in as innocent Clark to sweet talk Dr. Griffin and get his permission. Since I’m your teammate, you don’t have to get my permission, I suppose?” 

Bruce spun around to face him, getting the hand off his shoulder in the process. “It’s for your own good, and the good of our working partnership. Forget about it. I have work to do.” 

Another turn and Bruce was moving into the helicopter. Clark lifted off without mechanical assistance and went home. Bruce was a stubborn mule, and he’d have to find another way of getting the information he wanted. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

“Ladies and gentlemen, let me begin by thanking Mr. Wayne for his assistance yesterday.” The press hushed at Superman’s opening words, while a sleepy Brucie ogled Superman’s chest beside him on the platform. Clark had memorized his speech but had to force himself to speak at the pace Bruce had dictated in the email. Three seconds to say this line, one second pause before the next line begins, because Bruce was just that anal. Believable, but not a word of it was true, as Bruce was just that good at sneaky. 

“Wayne Enterprises has been working with the Justice League to construct a portable jail cell, for the containment of specially gifted criminals. Yesterday, I was working with the Green Lantern Corps and knew the prototype of that cell would be perfect for the criminal we were after. We had a limited amount of time to get him before he moved his base of operations, on another planet. The time constraints made me, rather rudely, grab Mr. Wayne. After we captured the criminal and I returned to Earth, I found out what a stir I had unwittingly caused.” 

At his pause, reporters started clamoring for his attention. Bruce didn’t want the reporters to say things like mind control or Super-zombie, so he’d planted Dick amongst them. Clark had been offended by the Super-zombie slur in the email, but he let it pass. Bruce was trying to anger him into forgetting about the hypnosis. Clark knew where Dick was sitting, the teenager dressed up to look like a thirty-something reporter, and pointed to him. 

“Superman, what about the strange way you talked?” 

“I heard that on the news, I did sound rather strange!” Bat mandated five second pause for tittering and exchanging of glances. “I was thinking about contingency plans, and making sure I was right about the device working, and where the planet the criminal was on was located. A lot on my mind, and I forgot to be civil. For that, I can only offer my apologies to Mr. Wayne.” 

Here he turned to Mr. Wayne, who started out of his glazed expression. The worst part was, Brucie’s reputation of stupidity allowed him to say things that didn’t exactly fit into the conversation or make sense. He’d asked Superman if he wanted W.E. to construct the jail, not if he wanted the one already built. It was a small hurdle, but one that could be sidestepped with perceived stupidity! 

“Oh, no need Superman! I’m only too glad to help, least I can do for you heroes. Though if you wanted to pay for the window…” 

Brucie let the question trail off, and waited six seconds for the reporters snorts of non-amusement and disbelief. There was another two and half minutes of talking, then three minutes of pictures of the two of them shaking hands before Clark was to fake an emergency and fly off. Still, as much as he planned, Bruce was excellent at making things up as he went. Bruce was about to resume his speech of stupidity, when Superman spoke. 

“I’m sorry, but I have to leave. I am detecting a distress signal from the Justice League.” The JL part wasn’t in the script, so Bruce would know Clark wasn’t lying before he sped out of the room. Behind him he heard Brucie talk about Wonder Woman taking him on a tour of the Watchtower while he was ‘abducted.’ That was supposed to be toward the end of the planned speech, so Batman would be monitoring the JL situation soon. Superman turned his comm. so he could transmit as well as receive. “Watchtower, what’s the problem?” 

“Got an email from Batman.” Green Arrow was quick to reply and explained without further prompting. “I think it was automated, as when we tried to contact him we didn’t get an answer. Anyway, there’s a building in Metropolis that he was researching. Wanted to know why Lex was trying to evict his tenets. Turns out, there’s a huge chunk of Kryptonite under it. Scans say it’s about the size of a cinder block, but Lex would have to tear down the building to get to it.” 

“That explains things. I’ll get my protective gear and go after it.” 

“No, you won’t.” The growl cut through the comms and made Clark roll his eyes. 

“Batman, if you didn’t want me to go get it, why did you alert the JL to its existence?” 

“I was busy and you know it. The computer sent it automatically when I didn’t answer my message soon enough, as Kryptonite pertains to you. That big of a chunk could kill you, suit or no. It won’t affect the rest of the JL, so you can stand down and let us deal with it.” 

“Stand down?” Anger made its way through Clark as he considered Bruce. “You yell at me, act superior to me, order me around and now you’re erasing my memories! I’m getting tired of this, and I’m getting that rock before Luther does.” 

“Stand down, Superman.” The Bat-growl was barely audible over the comm. 

“No.” Clark responded with his own growl, even as he wondered just why he was so angry. Was it a side-effect of the hypnosis, or the fact that Bruce was once again hiding something from him? He thought the snort would be his only response, but he was wrong. Before Clark could get over the shock of Bruce’s voice over the JL comm., the migraine came back with Bruce’s words. 

“Mice and men.” 

With that, the migraine was back in full force. “Damn it, Batman! Make it stop, I’m having trouble flying.” Clark wasn’t lying, as flying did take some thought. It felt as natural a breathing, but a type of breathing he had to be aware of. 

“You’ll survive the crash. You won’t survive the rock.” Clark moaned and tried to remember what Bruce had said in the Fortress to make it stop. 

“Gang aft agley!” It didn’t work, but got a derisive snort from Batman. 

“Supes, Batman, what’s gang aft agley?” Green Arrow’s confused question didn’t help either, and Bruce had hypnotized Clark, instead of Batman. 

“Batman’s alter ego has to say it to make my migraine go away, Green.” 

“You get migraines?” Ollie was surprised, and it showed in his voice. 

“Only around Batman!” Clark would have yelled, except it would have made the pain worse. 

“Funny. Are you still planning on trying for the Kryptonite without my assistance?” Batman’s voice said he knew the answer, but he felt obligated to ask. 

“No.” Clark tired a one word answer, quickly spoken around the pain. 

“Wow, you can’t even lie without giving yourself away when you only speak one word.” Batman knew him too well, Clark decided, a situation he’d remedy once he could think about how. “I’ll say it after I get the rock. You should land in a nice, sunny field somewhere.” 

Clark knew he couldn’t fight the pain and sickness of the Kryptonite along with this migraine. Still being near Gotham, he managed to fly drunkenly toward Wayne Manor and land on the manicured lawn. Lying on the grass, Clark absorbed as much sunlight as he could to fight the effects of the headache. As he listened to the JL get equipment together and find a way to dig up the Kryptonite without tearing down the building, Superman swore he’d find a way to get back at Batman. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

After the blessed words of relief had been spoken, Clark continued to lie on the lawn. After a few minutes of being able to think, Clark made his way to the Fortress. He’d remembered what room he’d walked out of with Bruce. He hadn’t looked back as they’d left, but he knew the Fortress. Bruce’s own fault really, for backtracking Dr. Griffin through his day which had give Clark the idea to do the same. 

The Fortress had lots of habitats for rare species from all over the galaxy. They were self contained and monitored by the Fortress AI, but only one was under constant audio surveillance to learn about the inhabitant’s communication methods. Bruce couldn’t have known that, nor did he know why Clark had taken him to that room for confinement. Pulling up the appropriate time, Clark only expected hints as to what happened. He hadn’t thought visual surveillance would be necessary for that habitat, but he should have known when he put up the nameplate. By making new memories from the sound of the event, he thought he’d be able to bypass the migraines Bruce had hypnotized him into having. 

“What the hell am I doing here?” Bruce’s anger was evident on the audio, and Clark was kind of glad he couldn’t remember that bit. Clark cringed at the way he’d sounded, Super-zombie indeed. Bruce’s next words were focused and rational; an effort to find out what was going on. “But other than that, who am I?” 

“Bruce.” Clark grimaced at how his voice sounded, like a deep-voiced preteen meeting his celebrity crush. 

Bruce’s reply was not acknowledgement of that tone of awe but of exasperation beyond enduring. Forcing himself to be calm, Bruce stared asking questions. Clark flushed at how petulant his hypnotized self sounded, but Bruce’s appreciative tones made him flush for a completely different reason. He was proud of his hypnotized self for trying to leave, but after Bruce’s sigh Clark was confused by what he heard. 

There were soft sounds before the distinctive click of Superman’s belt being released. Clothing was removed, the sound of flesh stroking flesh, and a grunt of surprise from Clark. Wet sounds followed, bringing appreciative moans out of Clark. Jerking to his feet, Clark fought against the idea he’d just had. 

The sounds only reminded him of his last blow job before Lois left him, no way that was what Bruce was doing! And Clark most certainly did not just moan Bruce’s name over the playback. A few seconds of silence followed before Clark heard himself zip out of the enclosure. Bruce was cussing at his departure, but he stopped when the door open again. A moment of hesitation and Bruce’s voice made Clark collapse back into his chair. 

“Superman, is this lube?” 

“Yes, dangerous one.” Stopping the playback, Clark went for a cold shower. As he tried to convince himself it was nothing more than a relaxation technique, Clark found he had to take himself in hand to get the sounds out of his head. At least the migraine didn’t flare up. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

A few conspiracy theories had been thrown up on the internet, but Bruce probably started most of those to keep people from thinking rationally about Superman kidnapping Brucie. Evidence was provided to Metropolis P.D. for the arrest of Dr. Griffin’s secretary for identity theft, clearing Dr. Griffin of suspicion. He also got to keep his apartments and drop the lawsuit, as Lex no longer had an interest in demolishing the apartment building. By the time of the Christmas Eve party at the Watchtower, everything was neatly resolved. Everything except the most important thing in Clark’s mind. 

He’d listened to the audio several times now, each event fueling fantasies he couldn’t admit to in the daylight. Yet every time he’d gone to the Fortress since, Clark had found himself listening to that audio. Memories were starting to leak around the pain Bruce had given him, so at times he’d be completely distracted by the feel of Bruce’s hand on him. The way Bruce had bit his nipple caused Clark to break a coffee mug at work. The surprised sound he’d made when he remembered the feeling of fullness when Bruce was inside him had set off car alarms for three city blocks. 

Batman had volunteered for monitor duty at the Watchtower so the others could party, but Clark was watching him through the walls instead of partying. J’onn would monitor things tomorrow, so Bruce could spend time with Dick and Alfred. But Clark found he really wanted to spend that time with Bruce. In rational moments, he could convince himself he was only lonely since Lois had split up with him. In the wake of listening to that audio recording, Clark didn’t let himself think about how right the idea of being with Bruce felt. Hiding from his feelings was almost working, except Diana sauntered over to Batman with something behind her back. 

Clark knew it was mistletoe and moved to intercept, forgetting about the wall he was looking through. Smacking into it, Clark took a moment to reorient himself before making his way to the monitor womb. Diana held the mistletoe over their heads as she sat on Bruce’s lap and kissed him. Last year, Clark would have approved of the match, but now he had one he approved of even more. While Diana finished with Batman, Clark went in search of his own sprig of mistletoe. He didn’t make any effort to hide his approach once Bruce was alone again, but Clark did tuck the mistletoe under his cape and into his belt. 

“Merry Christmas, Batman.” 

“Meh.” 

“Meh, Bruce?” 

“Meh, a new word indicating indifference. Origins trace the word to an episode of _The Simpsons._ ” 

“I’m visiting the farm tomorrow, but I wondered if I might drop in on you for lunch.” 

“Lunch?” 

“Yeah, I’d like to have Christmas lunch with you and Dick and Alfred, maybe exchange gifts.” 

“I don’t need anything and I didn’t get you anything.” 

“Bruce!” Clark paused for a deep breath. He knew this was going to be this way, that’s why he brought the backup plan of the mistletoe. “I would like to talk to you about something. You, not Batman or Brucie.” 

Bruce gave Clark his full attention at that, and considered him for a long minute. “If this is about the hypnosis, I promise to never do it again unless I have to.” 

“Not that, though I accept that promise. It’s about how you did it, the bits I’m starting to remember.” 

“What bits?” Bruce’s words were sharp and demanding. Clark crossed his arms and reverted to his Superman pose to answer. 

“So far, I remember you relaxing me at least four times.” 

“Everybody is their most relaxed after sex, you just needed more relaxation because of your alien nature.” Bruce tried to turn back to the monitors, so Clark stopped his spin by gripping the arms of the chair and leaned down to within inches of Bruce’s face. 

“So why did you wake me up to do it again, before you hypnotized me?” The symphony of Bruce’s pounding heartbeat made Clark want to dance; instead he held the pose until Bruce answered. 

“I’m thorough like that.” 

“It didn’t have anything to do with you wanting me? Because I find I want you.” 

“You’re looking to fill the gap by Lois, perfectly logical you’d select someone you work with. Doesn’t mean what you think you feel is real.” 

“I don’t think what I feel, I feel. That’s what everybody does, except you. I’ve been trying to think myself out of feeling this!” 

“Meh.” 

“Meh? I confess I’m possibly in love with you and you say meh?” 

“Hormones and rebound sex.” 

Clark closed his eyes and tried not to let his conflicting emotions get the best of him. How could he make Bruce believe this was not that new of an idea? He could have locked Bruce in any room in the Fortress, instead of his habitat! That was it, and Clark opened his eyes over a smile that made Bruce swallow heavily. Clark reached out mentally and connected with J’onn. 

_“Yes, Kal-el?”_

_“Would you mind taking over monitor duty?”_

_“I will do so. Enjoy your time with Batman.”_ There were times Clark could understand why Bruce disliked telepaths so much. This wasn’t one of them. 

_“Thank you, J’onn. I will, if only I can convince him to believe me.”_

_“I believe in you. I will transport you down.”_

“Bruce, you are coming with me. Don’t fight me.” Warning Bruce was a bad idea as the man had to fight. Clark used his hands to keep Bruce from getting anything out of his utility belt, but wrapped him in his legs. A fighting flight to the pad and J’onn sent them to the Fortress. 

Clark managed to get Bruce’s hands behind him, so only his words hurt as Clark took him back to the habitat. Unlike Brucie, Batman knew the industrial strength lubricant that would allow him to shove a telephone pole up Superman’s ass. Clark just shoved Bruce’s back to the nameplate and pulled off the cowl. 

“Bruce, listen to me or you’ll never get out of here.” 

Bruce’s jaw closed with an audible snap, but his eyes continued their cursing. Figuring it was the best he could hope for, Clark spoke. 

“You’ve always been special, even when we were almost enemies. I’ve considered you my best friend for years now, never considering there could be more to it. I’ve loved you that entire time, it simply never occurred to me that we might have sex. The talking, the caring, the fighting, the spending time together, all the stuff couples do, we do. Now that I know what I’m missing out on, physically, I’d like to do more of it.” 

Bruce growled at Clark’s words, his earlier objections clear in his eyes. 

“This isn’t just because of my nonexistent love life since Lois. I made something for you, almost three years ago, but I never told you about it. I went to the cave and you were dissecting a bat. When I asked you told me about the new disease that was killing them off. I had the AI create a new habitat and collected samples of the effected species. Had to get flowers to feed the bugs to feed the bats and everything. It’s where I locked you up that day. I didn’t lock you in the bat habitat because you were Batman any more than I recognized you as dangerous because you had access to Kryptonite. Open your heart, turn around, and read the nameplate, Bruce.” 

Clark held him until Bruce rolled his eyes and nodded. Stepping back, Clark watched Bruce’s reaction on the smooth, reflective surface of the Fortress. 

The Bruce Wayne Chiroptera Habitat  
Money preserves his parent’s names.  
History preserves his works.  
But Kal-El gives him this room as a promise.

I will cherish him as long as I persevere. 

  
“Three years ago?”

“Yes Bruce. I loved you before I knew it. If you could only love me, I’d be happy.” 

“It’s a bad idea, it won’t be easy, and it’ll never last.” Bruce was trying for control, even as Clark thought about how to answer him. 

Logically, it was a bad idea to risk the friendship and working partnership they had. Nothing with Bruce was ever easy, that went without saying. Clark could try and convince him that it would last forever, but words only went so far with Bruce. 

“Meh.” 

“I knew it was a bad idea to relax you that way. Put up that wall of pain to keep you from remembering, but forgot that I had to remember.” Bruce was still talking to the nameplate, but Clark heard every soft word. “I haven’t touched anyone else since.” 

“You’ve got it backwards. You admit to loving somebody, then get monogamous.” 

“Funny.” Bruce turned to face Clark and scrutinize him for a moment. 

Clark always felt guilty under that look, but now he was thinking of things to do to earn that guilt. The ones that didn’t involve a naked Bruce involved leather and silk. 

“The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men, Gang aft a-gley. That is to say, despite my plans, I love you too, Clark.” 

“Excellent!” Clark yelled before spinning Bruce around in a hug. Setting them down inside the habitat, Clark held the mistletoe over them as he kissed Bruce. When he felt Bruce struggling to breathe under him, Clark flew the mistletoe to the high ceiling of the habitat and hung it. Landing in front of an amused looking Bruce, Clark accepted Bruce’s kiss. Finally he pulled away to ask Bruce the question that was burning in his mind. “Can I unwrap my Christmas present yet?” 

“It’s under the tree at the Watchtower.” Bruce’s voice was almost back to its normal level of snark, but it was punctuated by the dropping of the utility belt. 

“Not that one, the one wrapped in Bat-armor.” Clark’s own uniform was gone in the time it took Bruce to remove his cape. 

“Only if you promise not to re-gift it.” Clark focused on the threat Bruce made that statement, just so he wouldn’t give in and rip of the expensive gear. 

“If memory serves, last time, I didn’t get to try you on for size.” 

“I don’t come with a receipt or guarantee.” The threat was gone, replaced with a tinge of uncertainty. Bruce was worried about how this would change things even as he pulled up one leg at a time to unlace the boots. 

“As long as you come, it’ll work out.” Kicking off his boots and pulling off the pants, Bruce let Clark see his underwear. The cloth wasn’t doing much to hide Bruce’s erection, so he pulled it off as well. 

“Now that, is something I can guarantee.” 

sB _Sb_ Bs

**Author's Note:**

> *Right after the _Batman Dies_ arc of comics, the JL did erase Bruce’s memories. Bruce was not happy. If I had a scanner, I’d attach the panel, but Superman gets really condescending. Says if Batman wants to hit him, he can. Promises he won’t let Batman break his hand. Batman hops in the Bat-wing and hits Superman with a few missiles. A surprised Superman says something like “Owe!”  
>  “To a Mouse,” by Robert Burns: “The best laid schemes o' mice an' men / Gang aft a-gley.”


End file.
